M. SCOTT MORRIS: Jay Bell’s life goes out of whack

If you felt a disturbance in the Force this past weekend, that was Jay Bell, my good friend from “Bradenton-Fun-in-the-Sun-Baby-Florida.”

“Morris. Morris. Morris,” he said. “I’m calling from a landline. Can you believe it? My cellphone died. All my contacts? Gone. You’re lucky I had your number saved in this phone. Must’ve done that 10 years ago.”

By nature, the Jaybird is a social animal who needs to be in touch. I immediately understood the gravity of the situation.

(He was wildly upset, but the Mighty Daily Journal is a family newspaper. For an idea of his true feelings, insert one naughty word for every four regular words.)

“I stood in line three hours at the phone store,” he said. “Guess what they told me?”

“Your phone is dead?”

“I’m serious, Morris.”

“You’re right. Sorry about that. You were at the store …”

“And they tell me if my phone had quit a week earlier I would’ve gotten a new one. My year was up, they said. So I said, ‘How come my year’s up when I’ve got a two-year contract? I know it’s the company’s policy – not your fault – but why am I paying $8.95 a month for insurance if there’s no replacement?’”

“How’d they respond?” I said.

“They tried to upsell me another phone,” he said.

If it’s something important, like a trip to a strip club or dog track, Jay will plop down whatever cash it takes for a good time. In fact, the day his phone died he eased his sorrows by losing more than $100 at a dog track in Sarasota.